


The Storm

by rabbitxheart



Series: Wood and Nails [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Depression, Derek Hale & Lydia Martin Friendship, F/F, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Past Character Death, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, The Hale Pack - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-06-05 06:01:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6692425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabbitxheart/pseuds/rabbitxheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Look,” Stiles says, exasperated and done. “Dead people are missing from their graves, the weather’s acting up in ways it shouldn’t, one of my best friends is screaming herself hoarse out in the woods nightly and I had a dream where someone told me to call you, so I got your number from our second.”<br/>“Your tall friend? With the blonde?”<br/>“Yes, thank you,” he sighs. The sound stops dead, and Leigh goes quiet.<br/>“You’re Hale,” she says like it’s a revelation, something she’s searched for but didn’t think she’d find.</p><p>***</p><p>There is trouble on the horizon, and not just in the form of the thunder and wind taking all of Beacon Hills by surprise every now and then. As Stiles wrestles bad dreams, Lydia's fugue states pick up in intensity and frequency, and as if that wasn't enough, someone is stealing corpses, both old and new, so skillfully that not even Derek can tell how. </p><p>That, and the way Stiles' emissary education has hit a brick wall, going out with a whimper rather than a bang.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Today it's three years since I began writing Wood and Nails, and one year since it was finished. So, to celebrate that, here's a teaser of what's to come.

”Stiles. You need to drink it.”

He's pulled to conciousness, yet again standing waist deep in troubled water, listening to the whirlpools around him. He has no idea how he's not being pulled down- they're growing stronger and stronger each time he has this dream, just like the wind is louder and fiercer around his face. There's a storm brewing above them, the low, rumbling threat of thunder.

”Jesus, not this again. Why is it that this dream always gets weirder and weirder?” He mumbles to himself, wiping at his chin with a wet sleeve. The dark substance dripping from his face and into the water is, as he suspected before, probably blood. ”Fine, I'll bite. What do I have to drink?”

”You have to drink it,” the shadowy figure on the sand tells him. ”You _have_ to.” This time the fire behind him is stronger, gives more light for Stiles to see with. He's young, not much older than Stiles himself, curly hair a fuzzy mess in the dim light. He can't see any details, can't even see his clothes properly.

”Drink what?” Stiles says, a bit louder this time in attempt to cut through all the noise. ”And why?”

”You have to, or they'll all die. You have to find the Lady.”

” _What lady_?” He sighs.

 

He wakes up on the sofa, panting for air, sweaty and eyes welling up, but Stiles cannot for the life of him remember why. Just the faint image of a dark shadow on the edge of the water, looking down at him.

”You okay?” Boyd asks with a frown, placing a grounding palm on Stiles' chest. He's sitting on the floor, game paused on the TV. 

Stiles opens his mouth to reassure Boyd he's fine. What comes out instead is the remnants of the very last of his dream.

”Who the fuck is Leigh?”


	2. Chapter 2

The water in the lake is murky, swirls moving around him as Stiles wades through it, soaking through his shirt. Even if he wasn’t in the water, the clouds above him hang heavy with rain, thunder growling on the horizon.

There are small rivulets of something dark running down his cheek, dripping off his chin and into the water. It looks black like this, but he's almost certain it's blood.

”You have to drink it,” the shadowy figure on the sand tells him. Close enough for Stiles to hear, but not close enough to see clearly in the dark. ”You have to.”

”Drink what?”

”Stiles.”

” _What?_ ” Stiles snaps, jerking a little when something grabs his arm.

 

”Stiles, wake up.”

”Huh?” He sits up with a start, nearly headbutting Derek, who just leans back as he goes. Good thing the man has preternatural reflexes.

”We gotta go, come on,” Derek says, putting a pair of sweatpants on his lap.

”I'm up, I'm up,” Stiles yawns, scrambling to get into his socks. ”What time is it?”

”3 am. ”

“I told you this would happen. Where’s the emergency bag?”

“In the car. Cora’s getting us something to eat, come on.”

 

Stiles gets up and throws a shirt on, laid out on their dresser for weeks for this very scenario. Derek’s already dressed, making sure all their wallets, chargers, cell phones and keys are with them.

“I’m starting the car!” Cora yells from downstairs, and Stiles has flashbacks to oversleeping on school days as he all but jumps down the staircase and runs out the door in bare feet, Derek calmly sighing and bringing Stiles’ Converse with him as he locks the door.

 

They arrive after Isaac, Allison and Scott, who have taken up a corner of the waiting room.

“Where’s dad?” Stiles asks Scott, pulling him into a supportive hug.

“Still in there,” Isaac hums, coming in for a hug as well. “The others are on their way. Come on, sit down, we can’t do much but wait.”

 

One by one they arrive in various states of awakeness, dressed in their emergency clothes with their emergency bags and packed snacks. Boyd and Cora are both sleeping, Erica sitting in the middle of a row of seating and them using her lap as their pillow.

 

About three hours in, Cora and Boyd both sit up, awake but bleary eyed. Scott looks shellshocked, as does Isaac. Derek is actually crying. What the fuck.

”What? _What_?” Stiles hisses at the pack's obviously alerted faces.

”You've got competition,” Erica grins at Lydia. ”This girl can _scream_.”

”It's a girl?” Stiles shoots up from his chair, practically landing in the lap of Scott who barely is present enough to catch him. ”We have a little sister!”

 

Ten perfect little toes and ten perfect little fingers around which she has the pack wrapped within seconds. Stiles leans back in the sofa next to Isaac, showing Isaac how to hold her head because he's her older brother too, even if he still sometimes needs to be reminded that he belongs. Scott sits on the other side of the sofa, telling her how much he loves her, and the girls are all alternating between talking to Melissa and taking pictures. Derek and Boyd's snuck off with Noah, as if neither Melissa, Stiles nor Erica know it's to smoke a celebratory cigar each on the hospital roof.

She's born about a week early on late midsummer's eve into a family of five and a pack of twelve who all love her very much, and her name is Claudia Lucia.

**Author's Note:**

> It's time we get this show on the road, don't you think? ;)


End file.
